Page 23 of Homecoming: The Devil's Society

Sandy short blond hair, a chiseled jawline, with thin lips and bushy brows. He is also keeping it casual in black sweats, blacksneakers, and a black tee. One arm is bare, and the other is full of ink. He seems like a pretty boy and is the first to speak. “You should go home. Lock your doors and don’t come out until morning.”

My head tilts, acting confused by his statement. Before I can question him further, Francesa speaks up, “What the fuck is painted on your face?”

Hm, well, she's rude.

With a smile, I politely respond, “The same shit painted on yours, makeup.”

“You stupid bitch.” Francesca spits out, then stomps toward me.

Her face is beautiful when filled with rage—passion. Biting my lip, impulse takes over. Reaching my hands out in front of me, they grip her face. She is slightly taller than me, but that doesn’t matter.

She tries to pull back, but I dig my fingers into her cheeks as my thumbs hold her chin. I smash my lips against hers. This was never part of the plan. But plans change.

Our lips part as our tongues intertwine, dancing instead of battling for dominance. Kissing her is sensual. My pussy tingles and I rub my thighs together, the plug and piercing add another level of torture inside of me. Tiny hands touch my skin, and fingers wrap around my wrists, but she doesn’t stop me. Francesca’s soft lips continue kissing mine. All the sensations are overwhelming, but I cannot get enough.

Before it can get any further, a deep and angry voice interrupts us. “Get your lips off her… NOW!”

All breathing has stopped, and our bodies are frozen.

Elijah.

My vision has tunneled.

“Elijah, man, calm down.”

He’s a Pawn andhethinkshehas the right to tell me what to do?

Gripping his shoulder, I squeeze it hard. I can feel the sharp claw piercing through his shirt, then his thin lining of skin. Pressing even harder, the claws push through his thick shoulder muscle. Slowly, I move my hand while still firmly penetrating him from the back of his shoulder to the front. All while listening to the beautiful tears my claw is making. My ears hyperfocus on it. With each small movement, hearing the metal slicing through him. Fuck. My mouth waters.

As I reach the collarbone, the curved blades get caught. Warm, dark red blood coats my hand and trickles down my arm. The Pawn’s shirt is completely doused in it.

Euphoric.

As the motherfucker tries to move, I pin him against the building's exterior brick wall with my bat under his chin. As his back slams against it, his mouth opens, releasing screams of terror.

Looking up, the bitch is crying. Drool is glistening down his face as it drips off his chin and onto my hand.

Seeing the look in my eyes, the Pawn panics, “No, no, no.”

Yes. Yes. Yes.

Removing my hand from his collarbone, the blades are no longer silver. They are beautifully stained. I am going to devour him.

His arm hangs freely, along with the muscles, and I’m sure important ligaments have also been severed.

Smiling at the sight of my beautiful destruction, I shove my hand in his mouth, the warmth of his breath reminding me of the power I have. These past couple months, it felt like I had lost it, but it was never missing. It was waiting for me. For this moment. The buildup, the anticipation. Tonight, everything will be worth the wait.

My fingers hit the back of his throat, and his tonsils contract as he gags. “Throw up or bite me, I will make this last hours longer,” my voice rasps with hopes he will give in to my cravings.

Pawn’s chest convulses, tears flowing freely. Sick of his antics, I apply pressure and destroy the inside of his mouth. Rotating my hand from side to side, I begin my assault on his tonsils which have been trying to keep me from moving. One swift movement in either direction, I slice clean through them.

My fingers follow behind, and blood continues to coat me as it flows down his throat.

The sharp edges then embed themselves into his tongue. Vibrations fluidly flow over my hand.

This is art. A symphony.

The vocal cords are telling me a story, singing me a song.

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